


Alistair vs Zevran

by Phsbarbie



Series: Dragon Age Origins [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Literature, Romance, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 16:15:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1694516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phsbarbie/pseuds/Phsbarbie





	Alistair vs Zevran

   They're laughing together again. Why? What could he possibly say that's funny? Not a single thing, that's what. I see the way he looks at her, I'm not blind. It's fairly similar to the looks I used to give her, although his contain more of a knowledge of sex than mine did. He knows we're together, everyone in camp does. I mean, Morrigan makes those little retching noises if she catches us looking at each other for too long. I can't stand it anymore, I've had enough of these mind games. Angel's leaving his side, going to talk to Leliana, so I make my move.

    "Zevran?" I say, coming up behind him.

    "Alistair, my friend. What can I do for you?" he asks, turning to face me and wearing that practiced smile. 

    "Let me ask you something," I start.

    "Is this about more ways to woo women? I have been compiling a list for you," he interrupts. I try not to blush.

    "I think I am doing quite well in the department on my own," I say, aiming for haughty. I apparently miss.

    "You are doing much better. Although, I do have some advice for you."

    "I am not asking for your advice Zevran," I say, before adding, "And I like my hair the way it is."

    "Truly?" he says in disbelief. "As you wish, though my advice is about something else entirely. It has to do with your recent... exertions with our fearless leader."

    "My...? Oh." This is not the direction I had pictured this going.

    "Last night it seemed you just got going when all grew quiet. You are feeling all right, yes? Perhaps you're tired?" he asks a bit too innocently.

    "We aren't really talking about this, are we? I must have hit my head," I say, trying to think back to today's battle. Was I knocked unconscious at some point? That must be it.

    "I have some roots from home you may chew if you need more energy, as I'm not sure how much pleasure Angel is able to derive from such a short performance. As for volume, perhaps you ought to try arching your-"

    "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I say, cutting him off. "Awkward. And weird. What are you doing paying such close attention to my sex life?"

    "Who says it was you I was paying attention to?" he asks, his voice a bit lower. I knew it.

    "Zevran, that's not what I came over here to talk about," I say firmly. "And Angel has never complained about that department, though it's absolutely none of your business"

    "You Fereldans are so finicky. How will you ever learn to pleasure each other unless you talk about it? But very well, what did you have to ask me?" Right, confronting Zevran here, not thinking about which body part to arch later tonight.

    "What are your intentions with her?" I ask, not a drop of amusement in my voice. But that's okay, apparently Zevran has enough for the both of us.

    "I'm not sure what you mean, Alistair. It depends on which her you mean. The queen of Antiva? None at all, not my contract. Andraste? I intend to one day observe the bosom that captured the interest of the very maker himself. Wynne? In her case I'd like to see first hand how well those bosoms have held up over the years." 

    "You know very well that I meant Angel," I say, before he can go on listing things I truly do not want to know. He peeks around me curiously. 

    "You speak of her as if she is not present. She's just over there you know."

    "Yes, and talking to Leliana about shoes or something. She's not listening to a word we say. Watch: Angel, Angel, Angel," I say in the same volume and tone of voice. She doesn't even pause in her sentence. "See? Now don't dodge the question. I'm serious." The smile on Zevran's face goes from practiced to conniving.

    "Mmm. Do I detect a bit of jealousy there? Feeling a bit territorial, are we?" he asks smugly. I remind myself Angel would not be happy if I strangled the elf.

    "I'm just asking what your intentions are. You did try to kill us all, remember?" I say, maintaining a pretty good hold on my temper in my opinion. Until he opens his mouth again at least.

    "And now I owe her a blood debt, as she has spared my life," he says with an edge of seduction. "It has brought us... closer together." He did not just say that.

    "Is that a smirk?" I accuse. "Are you smirking at me?" Maker, he bloody well is. How mad would she really be if I strangled him?

    "I assure you, ser, that I am not smirking," he says, showing me what it actually sounds like to be haughty. "No smirking here, no." I've had enough of this charade. I take a step closer to him, invading his personal space.

    "Stay away from her, Zevran," I say menacingly. He meets my stare and gives me a cool smile.

    "And who's going to tell her to stay away from me, hmm? Keep a close eye on your woman, Alistair, or one night she's likely to end up in my tent instead of yours." Before I can respond he turns his attention to Oghren and starts towards him. "Oghren, my stocky little friend! Let's have a taste of your latest batch!" I glower after him. That didn't help end the mind games at all, in fact, it kicked them up a level.

    "You're the one she loves, Alistair," says Wynne from behind me.

    "For tonight at least," I respond bitterly.

    "Come now, is the Angel you know really as fickle as that?" she asks with a smile.

    "No. No, she's not," I say, thinking it through.

    "Then have more trust in her, and more faith in yourself." I return her smile. 

    "Thank you Wynne. I think I'll turn in for the night," I say, heading in that direction.

    "Oh, and Alistair?" she says, halting my steps.

    "Yes Wynne?"

    "That tip about arching your-"

    "Not listening! La-la-la-la-la!" I call over my shoulder. Her laughter follows me into my tent. Wicked old woman. But when Angel comes in an hour later, snuggling up to me before she falls asleep, I take comfort in the fact that in her, I have trust, and in myself, I have faith.

  



End file.
